


say it, just say it

by mintbyul, moomoocentralfest



Series: Girl Crush Fest Round 1 (2018) [10]
Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Canon Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15238956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintbyul/pseuds/mintbyul, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moomoocentralfest/pseuds/moomoocentralfest
Summary: Byulyi's annoying and has a newfound love of pressing her nose to Yongsun's chin. Yongsun thinks she handles it fine, really, until she doesn't.





	say it, just say it

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: ohh my god this fic was such a learning curve for me. with all my heart, thank you to my beta - i couldn't have done this without you, really. thank you to the ficfest admins for organising this - because of this, i picked up writing! to the original prompter, i hope this is to your liking. and to you, the readers - please, enjoy. let me know what you think!

The first time it happens, they’re both exhausted from a full day's worth of schedules. Byulyi flicks the bedroom light off before shuffling towards Yongsun, who’s already swaddled in her thick blanket.

Yongsun can barely keep her eyes open, but when the blanket lifts, her arms instinctively curl around Byulyi’s thin form as she settles in, hardly registering anything as Byulyi rustles about, her silver hair tickling her chin. Her breath evens out before Byulyi decides on a suitable position, and she doesn’t feel the light touch of the younger woman’s nose against her chin, nor the ghost of a kiss pressed to her neck.

She wakes a few hours later to Byulyi’s gentle prodding.

“Yongsun-ah,” Byulyi whispers, her voice soft yet firm, “we’ve got to leave in an hour. Go get ready, I’ll get us something to eat.”

Yongsun doesn’t respond, exhaustion still weighing on her bones, and Byulyi kisses her forehead anyway before padding out the bedroom. The door shuts with a soft  _click._

They eat breakfast at the kitchen island in silence, both too groggy for morning pleasantries. Yongsun blinks hard at the bowl of rice in front of her, trying in vain to will the tiredness away. When she looks up, annoyed with her lack of energy, she notices Byulyi staring at her. She swipes her thumb over her lips, and when Yongsun finds her hand clean of any crumbs, she glances back at Byulyi in confusion.

“What? Why are you looking at me?"

Byulyi remains silent. With a glint of mischief in her eyes, she rises from her stool and approaches Yongsun, who sits up properly in response, sleepiness forgotten. Byulyi leans in far too close for it to be platonic, and with the slightest hint of pressure, presses her nose against Yongsun’s chin.

“What are you  _doing_?” The older woman pushes her away by the shoulders and looks at her with a mixture of annoyance and reluctant curiosity. Byulyi, meanwhile, looks suitably pleased.

“Yong, your chin is really soft. Softer than your cheeks.”

Before Yongsun can respond, Byulyi lifts a hand to her cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb before squeezing a hard pinch.

“Yeah, a little softer than your cheeks,” says Byulyi, chuckling as Yongsun groans—”yah, you’re so annoying”—and quickly swats her hand away. Byulyi keeps laughing anyway, undeterred. The leader huffs, diverting her attention to her morning meal. “Weirdo,” she mutters into her spoonful of rice, and Byulyi smirks.

-

They’re at another fanmeet, and the plan is to pass around churros and coffee to their fans, who are huddled together on concrete steps in front of them. Some fans are rubbing their hands together, blowing into them to keep warm, and Yongsun hopes the hot drinks will be done soon. Maybe the company should have prepared heat packs for them in addition to the coffee. She files the thought away, reminding herself to suggest it next time they do this again.

The snacks are taking longer than anticipated, and Yongsun wonders how to bide their time. She glances at Wheein and Hyejin, in their own world, amusing themselves with the megaphone. The fans are endeared enough by the two, but Yongsun’s mind is still thinking of another story to tell.

Byulyi had told her a joke the other day, one that kept her laughing for minutes straight - maybe that one? Or another story from their trainee days, how she and Byulyi had gotten into a fight over something inconsequential, as they were prone to at the time. She couldn’t remember the cause of that particular fight, but she recalled the soft knocks at her door too late at night. They sounded hesitant, like whoever knocked had been standing there for too long, unsure of themselves. Yongsun had opened it to Byulyi, whose eyes darted everywhere, never landing on Yongsun. The younger girl held her arm high, ninety degrees from her body, with a box of rice cakes gripped tightly in her hand. It was a peace offering, and Yongsun couldn’t possibly say no. To tteokbokki, anyway.

From the corner of her eyes, Yongsun catches Byulyi turning around to check the churro truck behind them. Byulyi looks at her then, concentration in her expression, and Yongsun knows she is racking her brain for ways to entertain their audience, too.

Byulyi leans in to whisper. “Unnie, stay still.”

Yongsun does, and Byulyi holds her head, tilts it up just so with her fingers. She leans in close, the cold tip of her nose to her leader’s chin, then pulls back with the biggest smile on her face. Of  _course_ Byulyi would do the stupid Nose Thing; of course she would do it in public.

Sometimes Yongsun wishes she doesn’t listen to Byulyi as well as she does.

It gets the job done though. The fans love it, and Byulyi invites them to engage with each other. Then Wheein, with her dimpled smile and curious eyes, presses her nose to her unnie’s chin, marvels at its softness, and Yongsun is so  _done_  with it all -

But she sees how much everyone enjoys it with their  _oohs_ and  _ahhs_ , how Byulyi is smiling so brightly at  _her_ , and Yongsun grins, too.

-

It becomes another thing for Yongsun to tack onto her list of Things Byulyi Does. There’s  _press her nose into Yongsun’s neck to smell her,_ there’s  _hide in Yongsun when embarrassed; show up at Yongsun’s apartment without reason; accompany Yongsun home even after a full work day together; spend the night in each other’s arms._ And now there’s this:

It’s a late night, and Yongsun is tired from a full day’s worth of dance practice. She and Byulyi step into the darkness of Yongsun’s apartment, and the younger woman flicks on the living room light as Yongsun plops herself face-first onto her sofa. Byulyi grins at her, hanging her coat onto the door rack. “Are you tired, unnie?”

Yongsun, face pressed into a pillow, mumbles a response. “More physically tired than sleepy tired. I’m actually craving some tteokbokki right now.”

Byulyi laughs, full of affection. She sits on the armrest and pets Yongsun’s hair. Huh, Yongsun thinks, enjoying the way Byulyi strokes her hair. Maybe if Byulyi keeps doing this she’d fall asleep sooner than expected.

“Let’s go, then.” Byulyi’s soothing voice interrupts her train of thought.

“Go where?”

“Go get some rice cakes for you. Our usual place is still open at this time.”

Yongsun wants to, and she normally says yes when Byulyi invites her out like this, but she knows they have another long day tomorrow. “No, we should get rest. Sleep is good.”

“So is tteokbokki.”

“I can’t argue with that. But as much as I want to, we really shouldn’t,” Yongsun laments. “I’m going to shower. Are you staying the night?”

“If I weren’t, would I be here right now?”

Yongsun rolls her eyes, but can’t stop the smile growing on her face. “Whatever, smartass.”

When she steps out of the restroom, the undeniable scent of tteokbokki hits her. Towelling her hair, she walks into her kitchen, where Byulyi is in the midst of setting up plates. The younger woman looks up at her with the audacity to smile. “In my defense,” she says, unprompted, placing a pair of chopsticks on a plate. “I didn’t go out. I ordered delivery.”

Yongsun stares at Byulyi, feels something in her chest but isn’t sure what. She shoves the feeling aside and sighs, settling down in a chair and picking up the chopsticks. “You shouldn’t do this again, but thank you.”

Byulyi wrinkles her nose, sticks her tongue out, and that weird feeling is back again. She leans in to press her nose against Yongsun’s chin and laughs when Yongsun pushes her away after a few seconds of indulging Byulyi. “Stop being weird,” Yongsun mutters, picking up a piece of fishcake. Byulyi’s dumb laugh echoes in Yongsun’s chest, and she takes a mouthful of fishcake to stop herself from smiling.

-

So, that’s how it starts, Yongsun’s dilemma. She’s not sure  _why_ it happens, but she catches herself noticing the little things Byulyi does for her. If she’s fanning herself after a particularly difficult dance session, Byulyi will wordlessly hand her a bottle of water. If they’re exiting a stage after a performance, Byulyi will wait for her at the end of the stairs, keeping a close eye on her steps. It’s unnecessary attention, Yongsun thinks, but she finds herself enjoying it nonetheless.

Beneath all the intimacy, Yongsun’s heart beats louder and louder, and every time Byulyi presses close to her, she feels the younger woman’s touch lingering long after she’s left. It’s as if Byulyi left invisible marks on her, and Yongsun finds herself craving more.

That’s another issue altogether, though, one that Yongsun refuses to address. So what if she enjoys the way Byulyi holds her wrist, or the way Byulyi’s hand would rest low on her back, guiding her wherever they needed to be.

There’s nothing to it.

It’s nice to be doted on, that’s all.

-

It’s another late night and they're cuddled into each other, lost in the sea of Yongsun’s pillows and stuffed toys. Yongsun is already half asleep when she feels Byulyi’s nose press against her chin. It stays for a few seconds, then Byulyi shuffles back to her rightful position tucked into her neck. Yongsun manages to mumble a “g’night, Byul-ah,” before sleep takes her.

In the morning, Byulyi, washed up and ready for the day, sits upright beside her. Yongsun is awake, though her eyes are still closed, and her gentle, steady breaths fill the silence between them. The rapper’s fingers are tangled in Yongsun’s hair, lightly scratching her scalp, and all Yongsun wants to do is pull Byulyi back into bed, back into her arms where she should be. It’s too early for the day to start, and Yongsun wants Byulyi to herself just a bit longer.

“You sleep like a log, unnie. I don’t know how you do it.” Byulyi sounds so fond, so warm, and it makes Yongsun finally open her eyes. Byulyi is smiling at her, eyes turning into crescent moons, nose crinkling, and it’s too early for Yongsun’s heart to handle this, to be filled with so much -

So much -

So much  _what,_ Yongsun.

Byulyi saves her from that dangerous train of thought. Sliding her hand down from Yongsun’s hairline, she rubs at the corner of her leader’s eye. “You should get up now, Yong, we have to be at the studio soon,” Byulyi mumbles distractedly, focused on wiping away the sleep crusted in the corner of Yongsun’s eyes.

She’s so weird, Yongsun thinks as Byulyi wipes at her face. Who does this, really.

Byulyi bends down slowly once she’s done, placing her hand beside Yongsun’s head to steady herself. Her eyes flick to the older woman’s lips. She leans in, closer and closer, and Yongsun doesn’t know what’s going on but her heart is definitely beating loud enough for Byulyi to hear. How  _embarrassing,_ she thinks, her eyes shut tight and hands fisting into her blanket as she prepares for Byulyi’s kiss -

Except it never comes, because the younger woman’s nose presses to Yongsun’s chin for a few seconds, and just like that, Byulyi is gone, muttering something about  _getting breakfast now_ , and  _you should seriously get ready, unnie._

Yongsun stares up at the ceiling. Blinks. Blinks again.

Well then.

-

The world doesn’t stop turning. Byulyi still comes over for the most inane reasons (“Do you have my shirt? I can’t find it at my place - I figured maybe it was in your laundry.”), Yongsun still lets her in, and Byulyi still spends the night more often than not.

The difference is that now, Yongsun doesn’t know what to do whenever Byulyi leans in to do that dumb nose-to-chin thing. She can’t stop her heart racing, her eyes flickering down to Byulyi’s lips, can’t stop herself thinking how easy it would be to tilt her head and  _kiss Byulyi_ -

She thinks about Byulyi and kissing a little too much these days.

-

It doesn’t mean anything, the fact she wants to kiss Byulyi. By all accounts, it’s only natural: Byulyi is admittedly attractive, and they’ve definitely been getting closer. Coupled with her penchant for skinship, of course Yongsun would start daydreaming about kissing Byulyi. She’s only human. She’ll get over it with time. (The fact Yongsun’s been having this conversation with herself is bothersome, but it’s necessary. Really.)

-

Some nights, sleep eludes her. It’s rare - something about being in Byulyi’s arms lulls Yongsun to sleep too easily (not that she’d admit it to herself, much less to anyone else). Sometimes, if Yongsun lets herself, her mind buzzes with the responsibilities of tomorrow. She’ll run through the day’s events—a schedule in the morning, a recording in the afternoon,  and it ends with dancing well into the night with their practices.

Those nights, Yongsun worries. How can she make the most of their days, she’ll wonder, how can she be the best leader she could be for them? And the creeping doubts that inevitably follow those thoughts fill her mind until Yongsun drowns in her inadequacy. She’s not doing enough for herself, for her members, for the people who work tirelessly behind the scenes for the group’s success.

She’s not doing enough for Byulyi—

Byulyi, who is ever-present in her mind. Byulyi, who worries too much in ways Wheein and Hyejin don’t, in ways too much like Yongsun (“I’m not like you or the others, unnie, I can’t sing, I’m not  _good enough_ —" _)_. How could she possibly help Byulyi, Yongsun wonders. How could she support her better?

One evening, in the midst of these thoughts, she feels Byulyi’s arms tighten around her waist.

“Yongsun-ah,” Byulyi mumbles, her lips brushing the baby hair on Yongsun’s nape. Her voice is thick with sleep. “You're thinking too loud. Sleep. We’re up early tomorrow.”

Yongsun hums, her mind elsewhere. Her hand finds Byulyi’s gently grasping her t-shirt, and she intertwines their fingers together. Her thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of the Byulyi’s hand.

Silence. Yongsun starts to think maybe the other woman has fallen asleep once again, until:

“Hey. Turn around.” Byulyi lets go only long enough for Yongsun to shift without second thought. Her eyes have adjusted enough to the dark for her to see Byulyi’s face, and the rapper squints at her through barely opened eyes and an adorable pout.

(She won’t admit it, but Yongsun wants to kiss it away. Wants to kiss Byulyi until all her worries are gone, and all she’s left with is Yongsun’s heartbeat, steady and reassuring.)

Byulyi reaches up, and her warm hands cup Yongsun’s cheeks. “Don’t know what you’re thinking about,” she starts, thumbs stroking, “but whatever it is, don't worry. You're good.”

She leans in ( _badumpbadump)_ and presses her lips (soft, they’re so  _soft, badumpbadumpbadump)_ to Yongsun’s chin, beneath the place Yongsun truly wants them. “You’re good, Yong.” Another gentle kiss, and then Byulyi tucks herself into Yongsun’s arms, the tip of her nose pressing right where her lips touched earlier.

Byulyi’s breath evens out far too fast considering the magnitude of what just happened, and Yongsun is left alone with her thoughts once more—except this time, with the way her heart is going to beat right out her chest, she’s pretty sure she finally knows what that strange feeling is.

-

It’s not love, but with the way she never fails to make Yongsun laugh, how she so easily offers her coat when Yongsun shivers, the way she tucks Yongsun’s hair behind her ear despite not washing for days - it could grow into love one day.

For now, though, with the sun nearly rising and Byulyi dozing peacefully in her arms, Yongsun presses her lips to Byulyi’s forehead and breathes her in.

_I like you, Byul-ah_.

-

The morning after continues as usual. Byulyi prods her awake, noses her chin, makes them breakfast. Yongsun rests her cheek atop her hand as she sits at the table, lost in her thoughts. She glances up at Byulyi, watching the way she frets over the kitchen stove. Has Byulyi always been this sweet to her? Does Byulyi like her, too?

“You okay, unnie?”

Yongsun blinks, thought bubble popping, and suddenly there’s a plate of steamed eggs in front of her. Byulyi, a small grin on her face, stands beside her.

“Ah, yes. Thank you for making breakfast.”

“That’ll be five thousand  _won_ , please,” Byulyi teases, her hand resting on the back of Yongsun’s chair. They’re close enough that she can smell the scent of her shampoo on Byulyi’s hair.

“Will you ever let me eat my breakfast in peace?”

“Nah, you’re stuck with me, sorry.”

Yongsun rolls her eyes even though Byulyi’s words settle in her heart, and they eat together in companionable silence until Byulyi pipes up, “You’re really okay, Yong? You seemed stressed last night. Sorry I wasn’t more awake.”

Ah. For all her annoyances, Byulyi is too thoughtful. Yongsun shakes her head.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“...Okay.” Byulyi doesn’t look convinced, but she drops the conversation.

-

Byulyi never brings up the quiet kisses, how they were too close to her lips for it to be friendly, and Yongsun doesn’t either.

Maybe she doesn’t remember. Maybe she does, but it didn’t mean anything to her. Either way, Yongsun doesn’t want to ask. What they have as friends is good, and why ruin a good thing, right?

Everything stays the same: Byulyi invites her out for dinner several times a week. Her eyes trail from Byulyi’s eyes to her lips one too many times during the evening, but they never linger—she doesn't give herself that luxury. Once they return to Yongsun’s apartment, she falls asleep in Byulyi’s arms, and the world continues to spin. Yongsun tells herself she’s thankful for it, that despite her feelings, she doesn’t want anything to change.

It lingers in the back of her mind every night Byulyi stays over, though, and she wonders if this is all they’ll ever be.

( _What do I want us to be_ _,_ she asks herself, and Yongsun shoves the thought away all too quickly.)

-

One afternoon, Byulyi shows up at her doorstep unannounced, greeting her with an obnoxiously cute smile and a nose press to her chin. “That one movie you wanted to see is finally in theatres, and you haven't been out in a while, so what do you think about going to watch it with me?”

_I like it more than you know,_ Yongsun thinks. “Let me go get changed,” is what she says. “Is it cold out?”

“It’s all right. You could even forget the jacket if you wanted. I’ll keep you warm.” Byulyi smiles charmingly at her, and wow, who knew her cheek dimple looked so kissable?

“You’re so annoying,” Yongsun groans. “Why don't you ever drag Wheein or Hyejin out instead?”

Yongsun heads to her bedroom for a change of clothes while Byulyi trails into the apartment. She toes off her shoes and unwraps her scarf, making herself at home.

“They’ve got each other,” Byulyi responds simply. “You’re my person, you know? Sometimes I only want to be with you.”

Yongsun feels like her heart might explode, and she quickly shuts the door in Byulyi’s face to hide her blush. “Byul-ah,” she yells through the door, “you’re gross!”

-

Byulyi’s dumb voice loops in her mind for the rest of the day and the next and the one after that.  _Sometimes I only want to be with you._ She tries not to think about it, but the way Byulyi said it so effortlessly, with a twinkle in her eye and the prettiest smile, Yongsun can’t help but consider. Maybe, maybe _._ Maybe Byulyi feels something, too.

-

On a rare day off, she finds herself lounging on the sofa with Byulyi. She lays on one end, head propped up on a pillow, and Byulyi sits at the opposite, tapping away on her phone. It’s some new game she’s been hooked on lately. Yongsun reminds herself to download it later since Byulyi had asked her to try it out the other day.

She stretches out a leg, toes poking Byulyi’s thigh. “Hey, Byul-ah.”

Byulyi hums noncommittally.

“Hey,” Yongsun prods. “Pay attention to me.” At that, Byulyi looks up from her phone, gaze inquisitive.

Yongsun swears it’s out of pure curiosity when she asks Byulyi, “Why are you always so… close to me?”

Byulyi blinks at the unexpected question. “Because your reactions are funny, Yong. You get so worked up.”

It’s not the answer Yongsun wants to hear, and really, she’s never been good at holding in her anger with Byulyi, so it shouldn’t come a surprise to her when she finds herself blurting out, “What, is that it? You like laughing at me?"

The surprise on Byulyi’s face is enough for Yongsun to realise she’s misunderstood, but apologizing is out of the question right now—she’s always held tightly onto her pride.

“That’s not what I mean, Yong,” Byulyi answers. She looks down for a moment, her fingers reaching up to play with the collar of her loose t-shirt.

“Then what  _do_ you mean?”

Yongsun waits, and waits, and waits. Byulyi remains tight-lipped, however, blatantly looking away as if Yongsun isn’t even there. Her hand falls from her shirt’s neckline to her lap, where it clenches into a fist, and Yongsun doesn’t have the patience for this.

She’s had enough, misunderstanding be damned. Enough of the uncertainty, the denial, and she’s not the kind of person to keep her thoughts quiet in the first place, especially with Byulyi, so it’s all just… draining.

“Byulyi.” Yongsun tries again. “What do you mean?”  _Answer me, damn it_ , and Byulyi doesn’t.

Yongsun clicks her tongue, a sharp  _tsk_ , and stands up, arms crossed across her chest. “Figures you wouldn’t answer. You never do.”

Byulyi’s head snaps up, frowning. “What?”

“You heard me. You never tell me anything, and you never take me seriously! You never take anything seriously!”

“Why are you getting so mad? No, don’t answer that - I know exactly what’s going to happen.” Yongsun frowns deeply at Byulyi, daring her to continue, and Byulyi stares fearlessly, furiously into her eyes.

“Poor Yongsun, having to deal with my bullshit. Sorry I’m not perfect, sorry I can’t tell you this  _one_ thing. Maybe if you pulled that stick out your ass you wouldn’t get so pissed off by every little thing I do!”

There’s a short, tense silence, and then Yongsun, cold and flat: “You don’t talk to me like that.”

Byulyi exhales harshly, holds her tongue. She gathers her jacket and wallet before leaving the apartment, slamming the door behind her, and her footsteps ring in Yongsun’s ears. Yongsun stands alone in her living room for too long, and when she’s sure Byulyi won’t return—when she gives up hope Byulyi will return—she collapses onto the sofa, chest heaving and fists pressed against her eyes.

-

That night, Yongsun climbs into her bed alone, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling she struggles falling asleep. She tosses and turns, hiding a frown in her blanket. How  _stupid,_  Yongsun berates herself, to have become so reliant on someone else. To have not realised she was letting someone squeeze their way into the crevices of her heart, letting them fill it up with their stupid jokes and laugh and the dumb way their nose crinkles every time they smile—really, how stupid to have hoped Byulyi felt any kind of way about her.

-

They don’t talk about it, and they don’t acknowledge each other. Yongsun walks into the practice room the next morning and finds Wheein and Hyejin seated on the ground. Hyejin looks up from her phone and greets Yongsun with a sleepy grin and a nonchalant hello. Wheein, stretching her legs, smiles brightly at Yongsun.

“Good morning, Yongsun-unnie!” She leans back and tilts her head to the side, searching for something behind the leader. “Where’s Byulyi-unnie?”

“We were surprised when we realized we came in before you guys,” Hyejin chimes in, setting her phone aside.

“Ah”—Yongsun wishes she were anywhere but here right now—”I don’t know, but let’s hope she doesn’t come in late.”

She leaves it at that and heads to the back of the room, dropping her belongings to the floor. Wheein and Hyejin exchange knowing looks. Yongsun-unnie and Byulyi-unnie are at it again; better not get involved.

When Byulyi arrives, she’s five minutes before practice is meant to begin, and aside from a curt nod of acknowledgement to each other, they don’t speak.

Yongsun doesn’t think about how she feels Byulyi’s absence, how every time Byulyi is within an arm’s length she feels an urge to reach out and pull the younger woman into her.

Byulyi gravitates to Wheein and Hyejin, and she doesn’t think about the dull ache in her heart. Is it really that easy for Byulyi to pretend like everything is fine, like she and Yongsun have always had this ocean between them?

During their lunch break, Yongsun excuses herself to the restroom. She stands at sink after having washed her face and stares at herself in the mirror. Her eyes are red from barely sleeping last night, her hair is unwashed, and she’s frowning. Yongsun rubs her face, as if she could wipe the unhappiness off if she tried hard enough. This isn’t good—she’s not fit to be leader if she can’t rein in her emotions. She’s not a good leader if she lets herself fall so easily.

(At the back of her mind, she ignores Byulyi’s soothing whisper of “you’re good, Yong,” ignores the memory of Byulyi, close and reassuring.)

She allows herself another heavy sigh, and when she looks back at the mirror, she’s not frowning anymore. She’s not smiling, either, but this will do, for now.

When she returns to the practice room, the rest of her group are sitting in a loose triangle, each with their respective meals. Hyejin and Byulyi listen as Wheein animatedly recounts a story about Kkomo from the night before.

Yongsun sits down, ensuring there’s a gap between herself and Byulyi. There’s a bowl of rice cakes laid out for her, and she almost wants to push it away and head to the lounge to get herself food.

Out of politeness, though, Yongsun asks who bought it.

There’s a stagnant pause, and then Wheein garbles through a mouthful of fried rice. “That was me, unnie.”

Yongsun looks at her skeptically. “Was it, now,” she asks, and Wheein stuffs her face with meat, avoiding eye contact. She’s about to drop the topic when she catches Wheein glancing surreptitiously at Byulyi, and she clenches her jaw. “Well,” Yongsun forces out. “Thank you.”

-

Fighting was so much easier when Byulyi argued back, Yongsun thinks a few days later. It was simple and straightforward: she’d yell, Byulyi would shout back, and that’d be the end of that. They would let their feelings out—not in the best of ways, but at least they shared; it’s easier to come to an understanding when you listen to each other. Yongsun’s not sure when it changed for Byulyi, but somewhere along the way the younger woman began holding in her feelings more and more.

Not that Yongsun is trying to sympathise with her now—no, if anything, she’s growing even more frustrated. Stupid Byulyi, she thinks to herself as she sits on her sofa. How hard could it be to share your feelings?

She blinks.

How hard could it be, sharing your feelings…

“Ugh,” Yongsun groans aloud, her head thudding against the back of her sofa. She’s not a hypocrite. It’s different for her. She can’t tell Byulyi how she’s feeling, because that’s just—it’s unthinkable. Why would she put her heart on the line like that?

Yongsun turns her head and stares at the other end of her sofa. It’s too easy to imagine Byulyi sitting right there with her, reading a book, playing her games, the way her hand would brush against Yongsun’s as they watch a drama together.

She closes her eyes, and all she sees is Byulyi.

-

Yongsun ambles into the practice room the next morning and nearly marches right out when she sees Byulyi, alone, leaning against the back wall. She straightens her posture and walks past the younger woman, foregoing any pretense of friendliness. She hears Byulyi exhale deeply before stepping closer, calling out her name. “What,” she snaps, setting her tote bag on the floor. She takes her phone out to ask Wheein and Hyejin where they are.

“Yongsun-ah, please, I just want to talk.”

That gets Yongsun to look up from her phone. Byulyi stands rigidly with her fists clenched at her sides, the brim of her hat almost low enough to hide her eyes at Yongsun’s angle.

“Talk? Right now, just before practice is meant to start? Wheein and Hyejin are-”

“Not coming until I tell them. I asked them to come in after we finished.”

Yongsun frowns. “Who gave you the right to do that?”

Byulyi winces at her harsh tone. “Sorry, I couldn’t go to—it was harder to go to you directly.”

The older crosses her arms, unimpressed with Byulyi’s answer.

“I won’t do it again,” Byulyi continues. Yongsun nods once. “And I won’t… bother you, either.”

Yongsun blinks in confusion. What?

“I know I can be… a lot. Too playful, too disrespectful, too close. You’ve been a saint for putting up with all that. I got too caught up in my own feelings, and I didn’t consider yours. I’m sorry. I’ll be more mindful from now on.”

No, that’s not - no.

“What are you talking about, Byulyi?”

“I mean I’ll tone it down, everything, I’ll stop-”

“No, I never asked you to do that.”

Byulyi clicks her jaw shut, and the silence is suffocating. 

“...Hey." Yongsun's firm voice does little to ease the tension. "What feelings?” She unfolds her arms and takes a step closer.

Byulyi looks up at her, alarmed. “What?”

“You said you got too caught up in your feelings. What feelings?”

“I - I can’t. Can’t tell you,” Byulyi ends lamely, staring down at her shoes.

_Tsk._ Yongsun rolls her eyes.

“No, you’re not allowed to do that again.” She marches up to Byulyi, and the younger woman backs up until she hits the wall behind her. “You can’t just keep it in like that. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Byulyi looks away, biting her lip.

“Yah, stop doing that! You know what? Fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll do it!”

Yongsun jabs a finger into Byulyi’s shoulder.

“You’re so annoying, you know that? I can’t get you out of my head! Ever since you started doing your stupid nose thing”—Byulyi turns to look at her, eyes wide—”I’ve had all these- these- thoughts! Of kissing you, holding you, being with you! And it’s beyond frustrating because I just want to know if you feel the same way, but you won’t say anything!”

Byulyi’s jaw falls open, and she blinks owlishly at Yongsun. She swallows to soothe her dry throat. “You- you didn’t say anything either, though, Yong.”

Yongsun gapes at her before leaning back, expression indignant. “That’s not the point. That’s seriously all you have to say? After all that?”

“No, no,” Byulyi backpedals, “I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

Ah. So there it is, finally. She takes a shaky breath, ignoring the pang in her heart. “Okay. I get it. Let’s pretend this never happened, then.”

“No!” Byulyi grabs Yongsun’s wrists. “I can’t believe that you feel the same way. About me.”

It’s Yongsun’s turn to be confused now, and it must show on her face, because Byulyi finally cracks a smile at her. “I… I like you, Yong. I think about kissing you, too. And holding you. And... being yours,” Byulyi finishes, cheeks tinted pink.

Yongsun holds her tongue, because the last thing she wants to share are her unfiltered thoughts of  _you_ are  _mine, though. You’ve been mine_.

“Oh,” she says instead, looking down at Byulyi’s hands around her wrists. Byulyi follows her line of sight and trails her fingers down to intertwine them in Yongsun’s. Byulyi looks up into the brunette’s eyes. It feels like it’s been so  _long_ , having Byulyi this close. She mentally traces the curve of Byulyi’s cheeks, the little crease of her nose, and Yongsun’s gaze falls on the curl of Byulyi’s lips.

And then Byulyi leans in closer and closer, tilting her head down as Yongsun lifts hers to meet Byulyi in the middle, and - oh,  _oh_. She’s known Byulyi’s lips were as soft as they looked from the chin kisses Byulyi’s given her, but to feel them against hers like  _this_ —Yongsun can’t really think.

When Byulyi pulls away too soon for her liking, she wraps her arms around the rapper’s neck and tugs her in for another sweet kiss. All that pining, when they could have had this weeks, months ago, even. Maybe Yongsun was just as silly as Byulyi for keeping it all in, for doubting Byulyi’s feelings. If only she had just looked closer.

By the time they’re satisfied with their kisses, Yongsun is fully pressed against Byulyi by the wall, with Byulyi’s arms wrapped low around her waist. “So,” Yongsun starts, a little breathless, “what now?” They’re both smiling, Yongsun’s finger tracing the wrinkle of Byulyi’s nose.

“Now… we call Wheein-ah and Hyejin-ah. They’ve been waiting a while for us.”

“Yeah.” Yongsun nods into the crook of Byulyi’s neck. “But I mean what now, for us?”

Byulyi leans back enough to cup Yongsun’s chin in her fingers, tilting the leader’s head to meet her eyes. She slides her hand up, caressing Yongsun’s cheek, then nuzzles her nose into Yongsun’s chin. “Let’s talk about it later, at your place.”

It sounds like a promise, and Yongsun pulls Byulyi in for a last kiss.


End file.
